Mirrored Journey of a fake clone
by Zorlin
Summary: A man that sees only a murderer in himself, and the smiles of children are the only thing that purge his doubts. A story of personal conflict, and the fears and domination of the animatronics. Not to be interpreted as pedophilia conflict! Do not expect anything inherently sexual among the protagonist and children!
1. The look around hell

My name may have been washed from the history books. Maybe the company thought they could hide me, the only one. Me, Silan Jynnlick. Weird name, I know. I am sixteen years old, and I love kids. My mom...she...hates me. She hates what I look like. She hates the fact that I look like...him. A murderer. A child abuser. Weirdly enough, he never hurt me or my mom. But he did terrible things. And to children, no less. I love kids, I was a babysitter, until my mom got me fired. She doesn't want me near kids. Sad, considering I was one at one point. I want to protect them. But the hatred she had for my father consumed me as well, and it boiled to the point where she forcibly got me emancipated. Out into a cruel world I wanted no part of at 15, I starved. I worked when I could, but I knew I needed a steady job. My aunt, May, decided she'd help me. She was uneasy with my initial suggestion. Fazbear Entertainment.

I walked in, nervous as well, and was met by an old, grisly man. A man with grayed hair, each hair matting to the other, and a cap around that, he also had an exterior of a stereotypical guard. He spoke deliberately, and I listened intently.

"Your job, first and foremost, is to care for the kids, but you must care for the animatronics even more so, and assist the mechanic, Joe, with any adjustments necessary," said the old man.

"What about you?" I said, nervous with a hint of curiosity peeking out of my voice.

"My, my, I am no one special, but I am retiring rather soon for the mixed shift position, and they needed someone, so I suppose that someone is you, young'un," he said, slowly, with a creak and slight crack in his voice.

With that, he took his time introducing me to Bonnie, Chica, Freddy, and Foxy. He told me about their personalities, obviously programmed with no emotion whatsoever, but interesting no less. Chica is the cook, and actually was programmed to cook, but usually isn't needed to do so. She is a lighthearted girl-based character, and usually submissive, and connects with dainty girls, and meek boys. Then there is Bonnie. She was originally designed to be a male animatronic, and as such isn't definitively feminine as some describe Chica. Bonnie has a laidback, southern hospitable personality. She was made to play instrumental guitar music, to appeal to children who found the animatronics disturbing, and as such, didn't sing. She was made to appeal to kids out of cities, and overall children. Freddy was made to be classy, and appeal to all children as an uncle or father figure, and as such, did not appeal to rebellious children. He did appeal mostly to girls, and some boys, but mostly girls who could relate to his fatherly appearance and personality. He also appealed to children who enjoyed the animatronics due to his constant singing and straightforwardness. Foxy was made to appeal to the outcast, rebellious, and scorned children. He had Pirate Cove to himself and the kids would visit him decidedly, and could leave at any time. Foxy had sensitive parameters, and as such, was seen by the staff as the most intelligent animatronic. So, whenever Foxy's parameters sensed a child, he would greet them and begin to tell a randomly generated story. Foxy had no traditional fixated position in the band of Fazbear's gang, in fact, he rarely left Pirate's Cove. I, unlike most new staff apparently, was very interested and didn't 'drone off' as the old guard said. He then gave me a tour of the place, simple enough, with halls leading to the security office, Pirate's Cove, the party room, the stage, the back room where spare parts and endoskeletons were kept, and the restrooms, and of course, the broom closet. He was actually showing me to another room, when, strangely, he clicked his tongue, hit himself in the head, and said 'nevermind'.

| Hey guys, it's me, Zorlin! What did you think of the story? First one, so please give me lots of reviews, so I can improve. This was just the introduction. This story will revolve around personal conflict, as well as conflict with the animatronics, and I'll be pumping these out like crazy, cause I have already written chapter 2, so yeah. If you enjoyed the story, follow to be notified of updates to the story, and such. It will also help if you favorite! Thanks guys and gals! |


	2. Guilt of a saint

"I'm sorry?" I asked, rather politely, thinking I had offended him in some way. After all, I _was_ paying close attention.

"Nothing, just...the company doesn't want new employees to know about the room, so, forget you heard about it," he said, with a paranoid, afraid tinge in his voice.

I shook my head, took the cap, and pinned my badge on. He took off, and I stood by the cashier, Theo. That's when _she_ showed up. A drunken, hot mess, of a redbearded women with a dainty toddler girl crying next to her.

"Would you just shut up? It's bad enough that bastard of a husband forced me to do this, but now I have to listen to you cry about how you need to go?! Just go, you stupid brat!" the women shouted, quite obviously inebriated and oblivious to the fact multiple parents were already staring at her. The girl swallowed her sobs and ran off to the corner of the dining room, and snuggled up against it. The woman sat down next to a burly, late twenties man. He was obviously there for a girl's sibling or child. She immediately started flirting with him, while her daughter was still uncontrollably sobbing in the corner. I sighed, and sat down on an empty table. I took in the scene of the gang singing and playing to the kids, Chica dancing with some of the kids, and overall a happy, boisterous scene. Sad that I needed a pick-me-up after that woman. I suddenly felt a tug at my shirt. The little girl was almost done crying, and she was wiggling her hips and pulling on my shirt.

"I need to g-o-o-o-o mister, where is the bathroom?" she said in a sweet, innocent manner. How anyone could think that she was anything but a darling upset me.

I was nervous, though. Not only did it look weird for a security guard to take a little girl to the bathroom, but if my mom found out she'd freak. Or even worse, my aunt. She wouldn't support me. But I knew that woman wouldn't help her. I couldn't just ignore her.

"Can you go by yourself like the big girl you are?" I said, in a calm manner to keep from upsetting her.

"I'm scared," she said with a whimper, almost making me melt. If it had been any other situation, I'd march her to the royal highness's bathroom, but I didn't want to look strange or lose my aunt's support.

I sighed, but realized it would be very insensitive and immoral to ignore this poor girl. So, I stood up and smiled.

"Okay, sure," I said, with a flat base. I didn't want to sound excited, or happy, that I was taking a little girl to the bathroom. I actually wasn't, I don't minding obliging, but I don't _like_ it.

"Thank you, mister," she said sweetly, and started to silently, and slowly, skip behind me, and then she slowed down, and reached for my hand, and I jerked it away.

It was a reaction, but immediately regretted it. She look like she had killed someone, and she looked like she was going to burst into tears, and with a heavy heart, and a really bad feeling, put my hand down out my side and let her grab it. As we got close to the bathroom, her steps started to hesitate more, and finally she let go of my hand, and I looked at her. Her sweet, cheekily round face, had distorted into a near sob. I didn't get it at first but then understood. She was truly terrified of going in there alone. But it was time to draw a line.

"I'm sorry little one, but I can't go in there with you, but I promise I will be right outside if you need me, okay?" I said, as calmly as I could.

"Okay...do you promise?" she said so sweetly that it could outrank chocolate in my opinion.

"Pinky," I said, waving my pink finger to emphasize.

She went in, opened the stall, and I stood outside. Strange, how anyone would want to hurt children. I really feel disgusted by the thought that people would think I'd follow in the footsteps of my dad. I feel even more disgusted at that woman. It wasn't right that I had to do this. This poor girl...she wasn't deserving of that abusive trash. I heard a flush, and some light steps, and she was back, trying to hold my hand again, and me trying harshly not to appear afraid of that. I took her back to the dining room, she let go of my hand, and I sat back at my empty table. Then the younger staff on duty, not a guard, mind you, walked up to me, with a stupid snarky smirk on his face, and knew I wasn't going to hear the end of helping a sweet, innocent girl.


	3. Sadness and Hatred in Freddy's Eyes

"So, ten minutes here and you're already getting creepy with the kids?" the snarky kid said to me.

"Chummy and friendly, I'd say, but I guess if you want to see the bad out of every situation and pick things that aren't really there, I guess go ahead," I muttered, rather bitterly.

"Whoa, dude, calm down, I'm not insinuating anything," he said really quickly, like he knew he was going to piss me off.

The mother of the little girl I helped was getting worse. She had a can of 'pop', and was getting rather close with the hunk she was pestering. Close, as in, rubbing his crotch and biting his ear. She was getting really, really troublesome. I'd end up telling her to leave most likely.

"Excuse me? Is there a security guard around?"

I spun around to the front door to see a rather young, but mature looking, woman. She had auburn hair, a sweater, rather fitly, with khakis, and trust me, those khakis were flattering. I walked up to the girl quickly, looking as official as I could.

"Yes, my name is Silan, I'm the security guard here, is there something specific that you need, ma'am?" I said, in a tone of authority, maybe slightly exaggerated.

"Yes, my name is Joyce, and my little brother has been DYING to come here, and I got a business meeting, so I was wondering if I could drop him off, and pay when I get back?" she said, rather rushed, and she looked flustered.

"In an official sense, no, ma'am. But I'll watch after him and pay for his stay, and you can go to your meeting," I said, in a sincere manner.

She gasped, I could tell for a moment she thought I was joking or I was messing with her, but I assured her I was serious.

"I can't possibly let you pay for my bro's stay, even if it's only for an afternoon, let me go get my purse..." she said, fumbling about in a pink, leather-bag.

"Ma'am, please. No need." I said with utter conviction.

"Then I'll pay double when I get back," she blurted.

I felt like I was arguing to be nice, but in earnest, I kept on. She said fine, and was on her way. I paid for his ticket for the afternoon, and I got him some pizza and a can of soda. The kid was jittery, all around, curious as a bugger, asking tons of questions about the animatronics, which was funny, and I didn't mind it at all.

"So, does Chica have any eggs?"

"No,"

"Does Foxy have a parrot?"

"No,"

"Why is Bonnie so weird?"

"I don't know, why do you think she is weird?"

"She just is….do you think Freddy likes to sing?"

I honestly wanted to say 'no' but ended up saying 'I don't know', and his infinite questions ceased. He got preoccupied by Chica's dancing with the kids. I looked over to the girl I had helped. She was still over in the corner… but she wasn't crying, at least. I hadn't even asked her name…. She saw me looking at her, and she tiptoed on over to me, like she was a criminal.

"Hi, sir," she said meekly, twiddling her thumbs, while twisting around on her two feet.

"Hey there, little one, I never even asked you your name, did I?" I said quietly, trying not to upset her.

"No, you didn't," she said, shyly smiling, "It's Lucy."

"Lucy? That's a very pretty name. Lucy, who is your favorite animatronic?" I said, inquiringly.

"I don't know...I only came here because my sister said she'd be here…." she said, very sadly.

She began to go in depths, explaining that her daddy isn't here….in heaven as she described. She said her mommy didn't like her….love her….so the only person she loved was her sister. Her sister was a big business baron, always getting great deals, and such. As such, her sister paid for much of Lucy's education and life. She was going to be here. She must have been late, I guess. Lucy is much like me….My dad is probably dead in jail….My mom hates me….and I am counting on a girl to support me.

I then was greeted by a loud, groaning sound. I looked over to see the woman almost dry-humping the man. This was enough, this isn't a damn adult's establishment. I walked over calmly, with a blank expression.

"Ma'am, we're gonna have to ask you to leave, we can't have you doing this in the establishment," I said calmly, with no expression of dislike or malice.

She stood up, flustered and frustrated due to the interruption of her intimacy, and got in my face, with a fake smile, and reached toward my belt.

"Is it because I wasn't paying attention to you, big boy?" she said, with an obvious fakeness in in her voice, she pulled her hand away and derided me.

"Too bad, dick," she said, disdain deeply in her inebriated face.

"Ma'am, I am going to have to ask you to please leave, you are disrupting Fazbear Entertainment's family friendly environment, and if you don't leave, we are going to have to call the police," I said calmly, with no disrespect in my voice.

"Whatever, I don't need this shit, come on you stupid brat!" She shouted, pulling Lucy's hair, and Lucy cried, sobbed, and begged for her to let go, and the mom just pulled harder.

Lucy pulled back, and her mother just, stopped, looked back at her with a face that spoke well enough. It spoke of dominance, of being challenged, and the woman hit her closed-fist, on her head. Lucy started to bawl, and I wanted to walk up to the woman and hit her in the back of her head, just to see how'd she react. I might have even ignored the woman, walked up to Lucy and hugged her and told her she mattered. But, no, I knew I had no place there. So I shut up, as Lucy held her head down in shame, as though she was the wrong-doer, and they both walked out.

Hatred bellowed in me. I then looked over to the animatronics, and saw they had all stopped, and looked at me, even the kids looked scared. Suddenly, though, Freddy snapped back to the kids and started singing, Foxy mechanically walked to his pirate cove, Chica whirled back and started dancing again, while Bonnie slowly


	4. Memory Demonizes

All day my thoughts reminisced of my 'father'. I suppose I should clear that up, as I'm obviously not Susie, or Mike, or Jack Afton. My mother….she is the brother of William Afton. She changed her name shortly after she became aware of his...doings. He was always around more than my deadbeat father, who had gotten himself locked up on federal fraud charges. My mom always knew I looked identical to Dad Afton. I actually loved him up until my teenage years, when I found out about his….acts. My thoughts would dwell on him the entire afternoon. He was an old customer of Fredbear's diner, an old place that was a stalking ground for him. Loved that old diner. The musty, dusting smell always smelled of home. My mom, grandmother, and my aunt were all waitresses there at one point. See, Fredbear's was actually originally just a diner. Designed to feed hungry souls passing the 186, you see? After my aunt got into waitressing there, though, it became painfully obvious we were losing out to this old pizza place up the road, Chunki's Cheese Pizzas. Guys in suits of anthropomorphic animals would grab the attention of not only creeped out adults, but also screaming children. Fred, as old as he was, and as stuck in his ways as he was, saw that times were changing. He spent half his fortune buying out Chunki's and adding their employees to his roster...a few years later, a few new additions to the building, and Fredbear's was booming. Hundreds of clients, thousands of children every week, commercials on nearly every major channel in the state. Things were good. Until...well, you know. I guess the name Afton was soiled...so mom changed it, and so did my aunt. That was when they both quit.

Problem is, I guess I still missed that old diner. When I heard Fred's daughter was starting up a sequel place, out of the money he left her (poor old guy had a heart attack when he heard what _he_ did), I couldn't help myself, I looked around. I looked too much like Dad Afton and got my shit kicked in by a few parents and employees before the owner, Sarah, recognized me and told them off and called an ambulance. I got an earful from my mom, and a few days later, emancipation hit me. Starving, I begged my aunt to take me in. I was helpful, as tech savvy as I was, and as a 'strong man', I warded off a few of her...suitors. But when she said I needed to get a job, I had a vicious flashback.

"Jesus h. Christ, what the hell are you guys doing?!" Sarah cried out, waving her arms.

The sounds of my brain pulsating, my heart beating out of my chest, and blood coming from every orifice available, all deafened me. But I understood someone was interrupting my death. God, I hated her for that. Just wished they would have finished me, you know? But no.

Grunts were heard, as a gravelly voice spoke, "What do you think?! We're protecting the kids from this... _thing_!"

"No, no, no, you idiots! That's not _him_ , that's my friend Silan! Pick him up, call an ambulance, or you're all out of a job!" she screeched.

"But-"

"No buts, ands, or ifs! Get him up **now**!" she yelled.

Suddenly, the kicking stopped. They picked me up, gently and laid me on a car hood.

I heard someone suck in air through the gap in their teeth.

"Oh god," someone whimpered, "It really wasn't him!"

"How could we do this?" another pondered.

"We were just trying to protect the kids!" the gravelly voice spoke roughly. "It's his fault for not saying!"

Problem was is that I had tried to say that I wasn't Dad Afton. But sneaking up on me, throat-punching me, did not leave much room for explanation.

The dial of a phone was heard, and a few minutes later I'm stable in the back of an ambulance. Sarah is on my right side, bawling her eyes out.

I felt guilty, like I done what they did to me, to her. "Listen, Sarah, I-" I attempted.

"No." she solemnly said. "This isn't your fault, and it never will be."

"I guess, I just wanted to see the new place and-" I spoke

"And you wanted to see if it was safe…." she said.

"That, and nostalgia," I said, holding my forehead.

Her eyes lit up instantly, "You want a job?!" she gasped. "That'd be fantastic! Someone as tough as you? Someone that knew the way things were before?"

"God that'd be great!" She stammered. "When can you-"

"No! Nononono!" I sputtered. "I can't be seen here! My mom will end me!"

"She blamed you?" she hatefully growled. "What a bitch!"

I winced. Part of me knew my mother was grieving as though it wasn't her brother that had...done those things, but her son. Like I was to blame. I loved her, but I hated the way she saw me as _him_.

"Well she took it pretty hard, Sarah" I explained.

"We all did, Sil," she muttered. "She needs to get a grip, she's an adult,"

"She lost her brother!" I defended my mom.

"I lost everything, but I didn't give up and blame Fred, or you, or anyone besides that bastard," she spat.

I wanted to wince again, but I could feel no sympathy or empathy for that murderer. I wanted to remember Dad Afton as the kind uncle who stepped in for a father figure, the one that always gave me ice cream and took me to the movies, not the one that was convicted of a terrible crime.

"I...have to get going, okay?" I said.

"In your condition?" she questioned. "I'll give you a ride home."

She smiled warmly and put me in her sedan.

"You're no better than him, you fucking child killer!" she screamed. Seeing Sarah, she put two and two together and knew that I was at the new place.

"You deserved every bruise those men gave you! What, the kids on TV or your vidya games don't scream good enough!?" she spattered.

"Miss Afton -" Sarah began. She instantly gasped. My mom glared at her.

"Afton?! Afton?! Listen here you child killer enabling slut!" she screamed, waving a finger in her face. Sarah slapped her hand out of her face.

"Stop lashing out at everyone! Your son is not W-" she began.

My mother quickly backhanded Sarah, and grabbed her by the throat.

"Don't you ever..." she glared, "EVER! SAY HIS NAME!" She had tightened her grip slightly.

"William" me and Sarah said instantaneously together. As we locked eyes, my mother threw her to the ground and stomped over to me, to slap me plainly in the face.

"GET OUT! GET OUT GET OUT!" she screamed, as she pushed me and stomped her feet, waving her arms around like a child. "I want you out by no later than tonight! I don't care where you go, what you do, but just NOT HERE! Fucking MURDERER!"

Murderer? I hadn't hurt a soul in such a long time. Last time I hurt someone was when I tripped Sarah when we were younger and she broke a tooth.

"Fazbear Entertainment" I said, blankly.

My aunt blinked, and a worried looked spread across her face.

"After all that's happened? Are you sure?" she inquired.

"I don't know anyone else...Sarah offered me a job as day guard, and she's paying me extra because of my experience at Fred's" I plainly stated. I grimaced from the look of concern growing on her brows.

"Is it for...any certain reason other than convenience?" she asked.

I knew what she was digging for.

"Aunt Mary, I swear to you-" I began.

"No, no apologies," she began to tear up. "I know you're not him..I am just worried about your safety."

All my thoughts were about _him_ and the events that followed. Sarah was right, the pay was good. And it wasn't difficult, the job. I was just worried that some hidden gene or something would surface and I'd become _him_. I looked like him, and some people say I had the same mannerisms and behaviors as him...but I'm not him. I don't want to be him.

My thoughts stopped cold when the current party ended. I put on a smile and followed routine.

"Alright kids, good to know that you had fun!" I said. "But Freddy and his friends have to rest! So how about everyone takes a short walk to the prize box to pick something out with Jake's sister..." (Jake being the birthday boy) I gestured towards her.

"While Jake's dad comes over to the cashier, okay?" I said, reassuringly. All the kids responded together with a resounding 'okay' and they all followed the woman that I'd helped before, Joyce. The dad was glaring at me, and I correctly assumed he knew who I was. I vaguely remember him from...somewhere.

We walked over to the cash register, and began telling him how much it was going to cost. He laughed at the excessive price.

"Well," he began, with a deep, grating voice. "If you weren't going to kill them before...you're gonna kill them with this price, am I right?" he looked around, joking. A look of realization came on my face, and he winced accordingly. He nodded to a corner, and I followed him.

"Listen, about before..." he began. "I'm sure you're nice and all, and not at all like him..."

"I know, I promise you I'll keep all the kids in here safe as long as they're on grounds," I dutifully recited.

"I know you will, considering how you held your tongue with that hussy," he said, me remembering the ginger atrocity.

"I just want to apologize for before, is all" he grimly reached his hand out, with a look of guilt on his face.

I slapped his hand down and said jollily, "No need, you were just protecting your son and all the kids in here."

The corner of his mouth peaked slightly and nodded understandingly to me.

Maybe I am different.


	5. Nightmare

As the party participants file out, I head to the mechanical section, only to be interrupted by Sarah.

"Woah, what do you think you're up to?" she gasped hurriedly, nervously gripping my right arm, sweat pouring from her face.

"Well, since there's no more parties for a few hours, I _was_ going to see if the mechanics needed help," I began, with a worried look spreading on my face. "But I guess you don't want that?"

Her eyes darted to the left, then right. "Follow me," she motioned to a corner, "I'll explain."

We walked rather conspicuously to a dark corner to the right of Pirate's Cove. I could swear I saw a pair of white, dead eyes near the back maintenance door… "Listen," Sarah started, exhaling, and smiling forcefully. "I know you want to..." I stopped paying attention to her, seeing the eyes dart everywhere, I rubbed my eyes to see the eyes approach the stage then disappear before reappearing behind Chica… "Are you even listening?!" she shook me.

"Huh? Oh, yeah," I said, _not really_ , "Something about wages?"

"No! God, this isn't like you Silan, what I was saying..."

"I know you're trying to be helpful, but I trust the mechanics to do their job, so please refrain from bothering them, okay?" she said, though I felt like she had left something out.

Suddenly, Chica began spasming, shaking, whirring, and moving spastically. The _vir vir_ of her legs as she ran around, no pun intended, a chicken without its head off, had caught the attention of the head mechanic, Jamie.

"Shit shit shit!" he cursed under his breath as he ran past us. He grabbed a baton from the guard rack and proceeded to jam it in one of Chica's joints, causing her to just stop suddenly, and fall over.

"Hey, I need a hand here!" Jamie yelled, and as I sprang to help, Sarah stopped me, and I watched as six mechanics helped Jamie move Chica to the mechanical section. As I moved my head back to Sarah to speak with her, I saw, in my peripheral vision, a pair of white dots bursting off the back of the stage and flying towards the back door, and as I began to walk towards it, Sarah called me. I turned my head towards her office to listen.

"Silan? The Junior mechanic says she needs help with Chica, so if you want to be helpful..." Sarah called from her office.

"Yeah, of course!" I yelled back, semi-bitterly, and quickly looked back to the backdoor to see it shut with a limb of purpleness darting out.

 _What the fuck?…_ I shook my head, and decided to check it out later.

I strode to the mechanical section of the pizzeria, amazed at the inner-workings of all the animatronics.

 _If there was something I should be proud of...I guess it could be that he instilled a mechanized interest in me...he taught me everything about these guys...I wish he hadn't ruined what he worked for….why murder when you build masterpieces like these?_

The shining aluminum and dazzling copper outshone the dark brass and volcanic-like steel, like a piece of artwork. To these mechanics, these were pieces of a puzzle, but to me? To me they were the limbs of a walking talking doll. Weird, I still remember all the joint sections and designations.

As I admired Dad Afton's handiwork, I heard someone call from the inner room.

"Hey! Can I get someone's help?" I heard a young voice call, stressed. I rushed to see a young ginger-haired teen working on Chica's joints.

"Hey, can you help me get this stick out of its leg?" she said. I saw clearly the baton from earlier protruding from her right thigh joint. I saw that the mechanics were trying to pull it roughly, which only provided resistance. Of course, that's how it was meant to be. See, if a random metal piece snapped and was stuck out of the character, there was a chance a child could grab it and hurt themselves. A rare occasion, but Dad Afton said it happened more often then you'd think. So he purposefully added hydraulics at the joints' core, so there would be resistance when anyone tried to pull on it.

"That's why," I stated, enthusiastically. I walked up to Chica's head, and pressed a few steel points, similar to springlocks from the earlier models, and watched Chica loosen up, and opened the mouthpiece.

And there it was. The horrifying, disgusting, gut-wrenchingly, soul-stabbingly foul spell of a smell forced it's way into my nasal cavities, burning the nose hairs that existed and leaving a graveyard-esque taste inside.

I jerked backwards and fell on my ass, gagging the entire time, the smell was enough to kill a skunk, but that's not the worst part. Inside...there was a mangled corpse, eyes popping out, bones snapping out of their places, and puke-blond hair was stuck everywhere inside….and the worst part? I recognized the corpse...it was a child's, one of the children that was at the earliest parties, as I remember specifically her mother asking if I'd seen her.

There was a dead child inside the animatronic. I started crying, for no explicit reason, other than horrendous memories, I started weeping, opening the floodgates, snot coming from my nose, and then the vomit came. I left a pool of fluids on the ground, and when my senses came back to me I felt a lot more than one presence. I saw the worried look of Sarah, and the whispering mugs of the mechanics. The junior mechanic looked aghast.

"What's wrong? Are you sick?" Sarah asked, putting her hand gingerly on my shoulder.

I started blathering, no English discernible, and I finally stopped, took a breath, then said, simply.

"Don't look inside Chica," I said, over and over again, and understanding, as well as horror, spread across everyone's face, excepting the younger employees. Sarah was pacing back and forth, pulling on her hair, tears in her eyes, saying insanely, "Not again, not again! It wasn't him..it wasn't him..god he's still out there...oh god why? Why?!"

I didn't blame her. I looked back over to the animatronic. The junior mechanic rose, a look of curiosity spreading on her face. No one was quick enough...she took one sniff and look inside the suit and fell back, grasping the ground and crabwalking backwards into her superior. This look of pure fear and astonishment spread on her face, stating _Why? What was that? Did you know? Why didn't you tell me?_

Anger spread amongst the older mechanics, some quickly left to look the grounds...but I know he's gone. _Those eyes….it was him_.

"He's not in prison," I whispered, with a deadpan blank expression etching itself into my face.

Sarah stopped, lunged down onto her knees next to me, putting her hands on my shoulders, shaking me.

"Goddamnit Silan, don't you get it?! It wasn't him, it wasn't Will!" she repeated over and over again.

I knew better. Those dead eyes were his...but how did he escape? Suddenly, I got a text from my mom.

" _He killed himself. Guards found him dead this morning."_

It didn't take a genius to figure who she was talking about, but I didn't buy it.

"Sarah, I saw him," I began. She jerked her head up, staring into my eyes, searching for the truth, when suddenly an even more disgusted, traumatized face spread across her own. She knew I spoke the truth.

"How did he get out?" she spoke emptily.

"He didn't..." I said, raising my phone to her face.

"No! Goddamnit, it he's dead, he can't be here!" she screamed, almost for her life.

I didn't know the whole truth. What I knew, was that my uncle had been here. And he had murdered that child. And we were defenseless.


	6. Murder

_Defenseless…_

…

The mechanics had gone home, Sarah had paid everyone an advance to keep everything quiet. Only people left were the night guard by the name of Randy, the junior mechanic, Lilly, who was unconvinced that the police shouldn't be contacted, Sarah, and I. Lilly stormed out of Sarah's office, threw her Fazbear hat at a table, and was about to walk out, when I whistled. She turned around, looked around, seeing if I had whistled at Sarah or Randy, but after realizing I wanted to speak with her, slowly walked over.

"I hope you're not gonna try to make me keep quiet about this shit?" She blurted, swaying on her hips.

I laughed, then said, "Listen, I get where you're coming from -"

"No...you fucking don't," she seethed quietly.

"I do, considering I worked at the predecessor to this place," I solemnly recalled. "I was in charge of cleaning the animatronics...I found a suit filled with a child, just like today."

"How old were you?" she nervously inquired.

"Eleven," I began, "Today was a PTSD experience, if I've heard of one," I smirked, then laughed emptily.

"My god..." she said, with her hand over her mouth.

"Listen..." I started, "I know you think you're helping by quitting and going to the police, but...it won't help." I shifted my weight onto my right leg, then continued. "If _he_ finds out that the police are involved, I can assure you that he'll get reckless and go on a killing spree."

She raised her eyebrow, as if saying, _Who?_

"My uncle, a murderer, who somehow escaped prison by faking his death..I saw him today, you know." I replied.

Again, she raised her eyebrow, asking _Are you sure?_ I nodded. She shook her head.

"I can't believe this shit," she broke down a little, "I just wanted to earn some money and be around kids, and this shit happened?" I laughed.

"None of us expected this." I stated seriously.

The restaurant was dark, only the dim lights at each corner giving sight to our fragile human eyes. Her hair had gone from the neat ponytail to a frazzled bob mixed with an undone tail quickly in the four hours after we discovered the child. We couldn't remove the child, for a multitude of reasons, mostly being the fact that if we took Chica apart, _he_ would notice and go berserk, thinking that we'd given the body to the police, but also, it was dangerous to go putting your hands in one of the animatronics. One time, a few senior employees, good family friends, had tried to pull the kid corpses out, but ended up getting cut in half by the razor sharp metal pieces inside. In essence, it was safer, and more mentally non-traumatizing to just leave the kid in there, and make sure the smell wasn't too strong. That's what caused the police investigation, then the killing spree – people complaining about the corpse-like smell. Air freshener helped, but we had already wasted 6 cans of the stuff, so it was obvious that unless we caught Dad Afton, we were all going to lose money, which had caused some staff to quit. We had to pay those people off – and there still wasn't anything stopping them from simply taking the money and going to the police. It was stressful.

I went home, walking from the bus stop, I had an experience. White eyes appeared in an alleyway, angrily, I sprinted towards it...and suddenly woke up after being knocked unconscious. I found a tape recorder on my stomach with a sticky note covering the front of it, purple marker saying " _Open with Sarah_ ". I shivered, looked around, and realized he had spared me. He could have killed me...what stopped him? I walked up my stairs, and closed the door behind me and walked into my aunts, older cousins, and my mom all half naked, playing _Apologies!_ The burning smell of vomit, piss, and alcohol all reeked of a college finals celebration. There were a dozen fifths of different alcohols on the kitchen table, and more than six empty bottles randomly sprawled on the carpet, and a few broken bottles in a couple corners. My female family all smiled drunkenly at me, and my mom motioned me over. My aunt May walked out of the bathroom, and her face was surprised.

Her face was only a pinkish red, it was obvious she had drunk the least.

"I would have thought you would be out drinking and celebrating?" she inquired.

"I was at work," I said, leaving out the events of today. "What's up with this?"

"They insisted on all bringing a fifth or two, you know me, I don't drink, but they all went overboard," she stammered.

"Hey, Silly, come sit with mama," my Drunk mother called over. "I want to say something."

Intrigued, I started walking towards her, when my aunt put a gentle hand on my shoulder.

"Be careful, you were the only conversation topic besides _him,_ " she whispered.

"All right, I'll be careful," I said back.

I walked over, kicked a plastic cup away, and sat Indian style between a cousin a few years older than me and my mom.

My mom leaned on my left shoulder, and my cousin worked her arms around my right arm. _This was a_ _ **horrible**_ _idea._

"I'm sorry," Mom said, tears welling up in her eyes. "I know I've been a bitch to you, but it's because I just love you so much, and I don't want you to end up like him, you know?"

I relaxed, I had known that. It just felt great that she didn't hate me. I knew she loved me, but I wish it didn't take her being drunk for her to admit that.

My aunt smiled, and handed me a cup of rum and cola, and we sat around, talking, lamenting, complaining, up until around 1 AM, when everyone went home, and my mom stumbled to the guest bed. I wasn't drunk, but needed the sleep, so I wandered to my room, said goodnight to May, and went to bed.

….

 _Run. Run. Run._

 _Hide. Hide. Hide._

 _Gold._

 _Black._

 _Black, empty eyes._

 _Pick me up._

 _Eat me._

 _Tear me apart._

 _I am nothing_

 _I am dead._

 _You are me._

 _I am me._

 _ **It's me.**_

 _ **It's me.**_

 _ **It's me.**_

… _._

I jerked up in bed, sweat pouring from my forehead, and glanced around my dark room, then out of the corner of my eye, I saw something in my window.

There he was. His eyes, white as snow, and body obscured by the night.

He was just staring at me. Then, a black shape appeared below his eyes.

 _A smile?_

I didn't move. I didn't cry, I wasn't afraid. I just waited. Waited for him to move. The black U of his dead grin soon disappeared, then his eyes. He closed them? He must be moving around to the door. I got up, quickly put on some pants and ran to the front door. I opened it...and woke up. I woke up on the fringe of the door of our small house. I had opened the door, then something had knocked me out….I saw a figure snaking its way away from my house...then heard a scream.

I ran...I ran as fast as I had at Fred's...I opened my mom's room to see a horrible site.

She was bound to the bed with her own knotted up underwear, she was wide awake, with a bottle of wine stuck in her throat.

The son of a bitch had stuck a glass bottle of wine in her mouth to suffocate her!

I ran over, picked the bottle out, and performed CPR, trying to get the wine out of her mouth.

It wasn't working.

"What are you doing…?" I heard a voice behind me.

My aunt! I flipped around like a criminal.

"What did you do to her?" she said quietly, almost fearfully.

"I didn't! I found her like this!" I said. She shook her head.

"She's not breathing. You killed her." my aunt whispered.

"No! I didn't!" I screamed.

… "Hey, do you mind helping me out?" a voice said behind me.

My mom?

I turned around to see her breathing, wine dribbling off her corner of her mouth.

"Mom!" I lunged and undid the bindings, and grabbed my mom's phone and dialed for an ambulance.

"What happened Shirley?" my aunt said, now on her knees next to my mom's floor mattress.

"I don't know...someone woke me up, then slapped me, and said 'I'm not over'," she began, then her eyes widened in horror, and she started breathing in and out really quickly.

"He...he..he..." my mom incoherently burbled. _She knew._

The sound of a siren outside signaled the ambulance's near arrival.

I sat down at her side.

"Silan...he's….he's…." she continued to blurt, trying to tell me what I already knew. I looked her in the eyes, and mouthed _I know_. She realized I knew, and then promptly fainted. That's when the sound of bursting doors echoed, and suddenly four paramedics pushed me and my aunt apart, and picked my mom up and put her on a gurney, and rushed her out.

 _He was here….he attempted to kill my mother...then stood outside my window, smiling, proud of his doings. How can we defend against a fucking phantom?_


	7. Barricade of Desperation

I stopped shivering and being paranoid. I didn't have a choice to be afraid anymore. Everyone around me, Sarah, my mom, the mechanics. They were all vicariously brave because of me. If I crumbled, they would too. I felt it.

I carpooled with Lilly and Sarah, and though the first 20 minutes were silent, Lilly piped up.

"So what are gonna do?" she inquired, rolling down the window and throwing a piece of chewed gum out the window.

Sarah tensed up. It was obvious she just wanted to ignore this for as long as possible.

"Sarah, we can't ignore this," I started. She shook her head. My eyes narrowed and I nudged her. I pulled the tape out of my pocket. She looked confused.

"He gave it to me, last night, after he tried to kill my mom," I spoke lowly, emptily.

Sarah looked aghast.

"He hit you in your home?" Sarah disbelievingly gasped.

I nodded. She looked at the tape as long as she could, but had to turn to the road and continue driving.

Soon she began shaking, wavering terribly. Sweat poured out of her arms and forehead. The obvious message was of fear, anticipation, and most importantly; deja vu.

Without looking away from the road, she stated, with that edge of fear in her voice, "I know where we can play this."

We walked through the back employee door, opposite the right side of the monitor room. We stamped into the monitor room, where Sarah took a few glances at the equipment, then crouched low, and pulled an ancient-looking TV/cassette player hybrid from the 80s. She put the cassette in after I removed the sticky pad.

A familiar view encompassed the static-filled screen.

 _Our pizzeria?_

No, it wasn't. It was….similar. Not Fredbear's either. What was this place?

A terrifying metal endoskeleton slumped its way across the old screen. Maybe it was my imagination, but sometimes, it twitched, looking towards the camera, other times it would spasm in the direction of the camera feed and mouth the words 'Help'. The feed died. Then it returned. _Jack?_

"Father...I found them. I found them all. I did what you wanted, but where are you? Where did you go?" the rough voice of Jack Afton called.

 _Them? Was he looking for the prototypes?_

Then it hit me.

 _Dad Afton had experience building the animatronics...and Jack looks young here...does that mean that Afton worked somewhere else?_

He wanted us to know. To know of this place. But why?

"I don't get it, who was that? Your uncle?" Lilly nervously muttered.

"No, that was Jack, our cousin," Sarah said half-heartedly. It was obvious she didn't understand what Jack had meant. But I did. Not because I smarter, or better than her. But because Afton taught me about the animatronics. Not their origins, but their very beings. I knew from the sketches of the animatronics that there were previous models – but it didn't make sense as to where those went. He never spoke of the prototypes, but now I knew they were there, once. Before Jack found them. Where had they gone? What had he done with them? I didn't think they would understand, so I kept quiet. But it didn't make a lick of sense. Why show me that if I wouldn't know where this restaurant was? He wanted me to find it.

The feed once again died, but restarted in our own pizzeria, attached to one of our own cameras. Our feed had been maintained securely, but he had access, he had complete access to our servers, information, closing times, **everything**.

He was telling us. Mocking us.

" _You think you can protect them? Save them?"_

" _You can't"_

" _I am a shadow in the night"_

" _I am god"_

" _I am your nightmare"_

It was horrifyingly true. Staggeringly terrifying, to see him observe us. It didn't matter what we did, we couldn't protect them.

That's when I thought of something. This was a challenge, no doubt. A claim of dominance. But it also allowed us a moment of pause. He wanted our data badly. What other streams did he have? One of years prior. We needed to deprive him of that data.

"Sarah, I need admin access to the Pizzeria," I said, coldly.

She turned abruptly to me, and said, "You have a plan?"

I nodded. "It may deprive us of evidence against him, though." I stated with a warning.

"Will it hurt the bastard?" Sarah spat.

I smirked, "Devastate." I worded.

She half-smiled, and handed me an admin keycard. I slid it through the computer hooked up to the entire system, and quickly messaged a buddy of mine, Keith.

 _Foxy1984 logged onto channel Mechanical Wonders._

 _Foxy1984:_ _ **keith, you there?**_

 _Springfoxy223:_ _ **yup, whats going down?**_

 _Foxy1984:_ _ **need a hand**_

 _Springfoxy2:_ _ **with?**_

 _Foxy1984:_ _ **can you send me a loop &delete command prompt for securcam 1800, a-series?**_

 _Springfoxy2:_ _ **oddly specific, and tyrannosaurusly old. let me look. any reason why?**_

 _Foxy1984:_ _ **ill fill you in later, but right now, lets just say that its gonna save some lives, alright?**_

 _Springfoxy2:_ _ **always up for saving lives, long as theres a dame that needs it. here;**_

 _Springfoxy2 has attached and sent you file !_

 _Good._

I quickly download the file and copy it to each and every executable in the library of camera feeds. The only way to view the feed is to watch it directly, which would be a guard's duty. Otherwise, the recorded footage loops itself, and deletes any pre and post-loop footage, preventing post-live recording viewing.

"Done!" I said with a satisfying click of the mouse.

"What exactly is that gonna do?" Lilly said, with a questioning glance in her eyes.

"It'll prevent _him_ from retrieving any data from the cameras." I called proudly.

Suddenly Sarah's eyes widened, and she leaped into an embrace with me.

"You're a damn genius Silan! That means we can actually prepare real defenses! He won't be able to predict them!" she spurt. I smiled.

 _Your move, murderer._

Business went on as usual, but some parents and some mechanics volunteered as part-time guards, so we had more than 20 adults roaming the place during the light hours. He didn't show up. There were some six parties, though nothing special occurred with them. I had quickly been accustomed as one of the captains of our security team, along with Sarah, Jamie, and the gravel-voiced man named Sledge. While Sarah ran interference, and kept up external defense from the public and police, I made sure to fix up all the electronic bugs in the place, even installing new generators, motion sensors, extra cameras and the like, whilst Sledge and most of the guards were responsible for the actual guarding. At first, most of the guards didn't trust me, but Sledge's word meant a lot, and if he said I wasn't a murderer, I wasn't a murderer.

We had kept Chica offstage, though, her presence was indeed missed. It was painfully obvious that we had to get her out there, so we finally got around to installing stench insulation to prevent any mishaps with the corpse. Chica acted normally, and the kids seemed tenfold more happy with her.

As the last partygoers left, and the night shift of 40 some guards came in, the pizzeria's lights were turned off, and flashlights were on. Most of the guards would be on the outside, while me, Lilly, and Sarah watched the cameras from the inside, to watch for any external and internal intrusions. One " _He's_ here" would be enough to make the entirety of the guards rush in, preventing him from an easy escape. It was an ideal situation.

I strode to the mechanic's corner, to pick up Lilly and head back to the guard's office.

As I turned the corner, I noticed Lilly working on a shoulder of Chica.

Suddenly…

 **IT'S ME**

….?

 **IT'S ME**

Chica bolted upright to stare me in the eyes. Lilly looked on in horror, as Chica had been turned off for the night.

 **IT'S ME**

Chica tilted her head to the left, and opened her jaw, wide.

Then she ran.

You'd think a half-ton animatronic would be slow, but you'd be wrong.

Good thing I had good enough reflexes.

I sidestepped and dodged Chica's remittere, narrowly dodging her metal teeth's contact to my neck.

 **IT'S ME**

She quickly recovered, though, and lunged again, this time, successful getting contact, knocking me flat on my back.

 **IT'S ME**

Lilly grabbed a flashlight from near her, and stood up.

 **IT'S ME**

Chica proceeded to stare at me for only a few seconds, then jarringly opened her jaw as wide as it could go, and nodded her head all the way back

 _She's preparing to bite!_

 **IT'S ME**

 **IT'S ME!**

Then it all stopped.

A light shone in from my right, where Lilly had flashed Chica's eyes.

Instead of the blank and plastic empty eyes that were customary in the animatronics, there was bright blue eyes in Chica's sockets. Her head was cocked to the side, questioningly.

Then, an atrocious thing happened.

"What are you doing down there?"

 _She spoke._


End file.
